


Hooch

by egocentrifuge



Series: Another We (RandL OC Fics) [2]
Category: Rhett & Link
Genre: I say that with love, M/M, Rabbit Lightning - Freeform, and redd realizes his husband has capital i Issues, i love both of these fictional men, in which lohn has self-worth issues deeply buried under his egotism, jesus yall none of these tags are available, rohn - Freeform
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-12-04
Updated: 2018-12-04
Packaged: 2019-09-06 22:46:40
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 788
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16841962
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/egocentrifuge/pseuds/egocentrifuge
Summary: “Why’s it always fuckin’?”Lohn has to blink away the sleep in his eyes before he can make sense of Redd’s voice. The sun’s been gone an hour now, and with the days longer than ever every bit of him except the six foot six inches sitting on the other side of the fire pit is ready to go to bed. Hearing what Redd’s asking doesn’t make it make any more sense, though.“Wassat?” Lohn manages, yawning. He can just make out Redd tilting his head as he repeats himself.“I said, why is it always fucking? When it’s me that’s inside you.”





	Hooch

**Author's Note:**

> posted on my tumblr of the same username, but with the current purge i'm going back and saving all my faves here. if you have notifications enabled, now might be the time to... disable that, as there's going to be quite a few things you probably already read/unfinished fragments put here. thank you all for your patience, I love you, and feedback is always appreciated <3

“Why’s it always fuckin’?”

Lohn has to blink away the sleep in his eyes before he can make sense of Redd’s voice. The sun’s been gone an hour now, and with the days longer than ever every bit of him except the six foot six inches sitting on the other side of the fire pit is ready to go to bed. Hearing what Redd’s asking doesn’t make it make any more sense, though.

“Wassat?” Lohn manages, yawning. He can just make out Redd tilting his head as he repeats himself.

“I said, why is it always fucking? When it’s me that’s inside you.”

He looks real good lit by just the fire, his Redd. Hair falling over his shoulders in a silken wave, glasses pushed up to nestle in his curls like a bird come to roost–goddamn. Like a Greek god, Redd is, one of those ones what’s always having kids.

Lohn feels a pang of something in his chest and sniffs, rubs at his eye to banish the sudden vision of a golden-haired tot sitting on Redd’s knee. Redd’d have good looking kids.

“Fucking,” Lohn repeats, when he remembers what Redd’s asked. “Well that’s–that’s just what it’s called, brother.”

Redd taps his guitar twice in a wordless _no,_ draws Lohn’s gaze back to him. Lohn knows Redd’s sitting still as a statue but the light flickering ‘long his skin makes Redd look like he’s squirming in his seat. It’s real hard to listen with his mind wandering to when Lohn’s made Redd writhe like that in earnest.

“It ain’t what you call it when it’s the other way around,” he’s saying. Lohn’s trying to pay attention, honest, but he’s got the handsomest man in the world talking to him about _fuckin'_ and it’d take a worldlier man than he to keep his thoughts from straying.

“You want me to make love to you, Rabbit?” Lohn asks, half-seductive, half-hopeful. He can’t read Redd’s face in this light, not when he’s this tired.

“What I wanted to make love to you?”

Well, shoot, Lohn could go for that, too. He starts to haul himself out of the chair before Redd taps his guitar and Lohn goes pliant. Redd wants to go slow, then, Lohn’s just fine with that. They’d gone fast that morning–-that afternoon, more like, when Redd’d pulled Lohn back to bed with teeth in his neck and a hand up the floral nightgown he’d gotten Lohn last Christmas. Lohn loves the damn thing, loves that Redd had seen flowers and thought of him, loves that Redd had barely bothered to push it up before–

“You listening to me, brother?” Redd asks.

Lohn scrubs a hand over his face and down his chest that ends up resting on where he’s starting to get hard. “You wanna fuck me,” he repeats. Anyone else and Lohn’d be blushing at how wrecked he sounds with all his clothes still on. But Redd looks fine as hell and Lohn can’t help it if Redd’s just gonna keep saying shit like he is now:

“Wanna _make love_ to you. Or for you to _fuck_ me.”

Redd’s voice is still that same level tone what means he’s getting at something. Lohn searches for answers in his dark eyes and gets lost somewhere along the way.

“I’ll make love to you,” he wheedles, “or you can fuck me, whatever you want, darlin’–-”

“God’s sake,” Redd interrupts, but he’s smiling. Lohn watches his hair move in waves as Redd shakes his head.

“We don’t gotta,” Lohn tries. It’s important to say. “If you ain’t in the mood–”

“You’re not hearing me,” Redd insists. “You’re not listening to what you’re saying.”

“Well, no,” Lohn allows, after a moment of thought that’s easier now that he’s sat on his hands, “on account'a me being the one saying it."

Redd huffs, exasperated and fond and absolutely perfect. Lohn still don’t know what he’s asking, but when Redd sets aside his guitar and extends a hand, Lohn understands him perfectly.

“You should stop sampling your wares, white lightning,” Redd murmurs once Lohn’s stumbled his way over to him.

“You’re the only moonshine I need,” he agrees. It earns him a kiss that’s more intoxicating than any of the hooch Lohn’s ever brewed.

“C'mon slick. Let’s get you to bed.”

(Lohn’s happy to be herded up the stairs, into the bedroom, even though Redd seems to have nixxed the fucking. “You’ll tell me what you mean tomorrow?” he slurs. They hadn’t started the generator running, and it’s hard to keep his eyes open in the warm dark of the trailer.

“I’ll show you,” Redd promises as he nudges Lohn under the covers. “As many times as I need.”)


End file.
